I close my eyes when another pain begins and Alexander kisses the top of my head the way I always thought a loving father would. “Game’s nearly over, love. Alex will be here soon.”
Malie stands beside the bed, rubbing my back in slow circles. “Let us worry about getting our son here. You just worry about getting our grandchild here.”
The contraction hits again, steady this time, deeper than before. My breath hitches. It’s pain with purpose—marching toward something life-changing.
I press my hand to my bump. “Your daddy will be here soon. You just stay nice and comfy in there a while longer.”
Malie leans in. “I’ve been thinking about our best move. I think we should call Julia. Communication with Alex through Nate will be the fastest. It’s in the team’s best interest for Alex to stay and milk the attention. Management will drag their feet taking him out of the spotlight.”
“My contractions are getting harder, so I think getting him here as quickly as possible is a great idea.”
I hand over my phone, and a few moments later, she lifts it to her ear. “Julia? It’s Malie Sebring, Alex’s mum. Magnolia’s in labor. We’re at the Women’s Hospital. Can you ask Nate to find Alex the minute the game ends? Don’t go through management—just send Nate. He’ll get to him faster.”
I close my eyes as another contraction rips through my body, and my hand fists the blanket.
“Good girl,” Malie says, holding my hand. “You’re doing a beautiful job.”
Time passes in a blur. I’m six centimeters at my next exam and the pain is growing—sharper, steadier. I focus on the game playing on the television. It’s the second half now. Alex is on fire—commanding, explosive. The stadium is a wall of noise.
The final whistle blows and Alex’s team wins. Chaos erupts on the screen. Teammates are tackling each other in celebration. Confetti rains down.
A reporter pulls Alex aside for an interview. He’s smiling, flushed, sweat-dark curls sticking to his forehead.
“Massive win tonight for you, Alex. Congratulations. And congratulations on becoming a father, too.”
Alex laughs, breathless, running his hands through his wet hair. “Not yet but any day now.”
The reporter shakes his head, holding a finger to his earpiece. “No, mate. Your wife is at the Women’s Hospital. In labor. It’s happening now.”
The shift in Alex is instant. His smile fades. His eyes widen.
“What?”
The camera captures everything—the way he jerks back, tosses the mic, and sprints off the field. The crowd roars as he runs, teammates shouting his name. Security barely gets out of his way.
My heart races.
“Well,” Malie says with a sigh. “I think it’s safe to say he knows and is on his way.”
My hand shoots to my belly when another contraction hits. “I’m in so much trouble.”
“He’ll forgive you,” Malie says. “Eventually. As long as he makes it here before the baby comes.”
We both laugh—nervous, breathless, full of love.
My phone rings, and I’m certain it’s him before I look at the screen.
I swipe to answer. “Hi?—”
His voice is tight, breathless. There’s no anger, just raw panic. “You’re in labor? Why didn’t you send for me?”
“I wasn’t sure. I’ve been cramping all day, but I didn’t want to pull you out of the biggest game of your life over a false alarm.”
“How much are you dilated?”
“Six centimeters.”
“Six centimeters! Bloody hell, favorite. You’re over halfway and I’m not even there. I would’ve dropped everything to be there with you.”
